Perch @perchingpath@eldritch.cafe
Scarp scree clatter. She, elle.
Within 30 miles of Philadelphia, because of a curse.
Joined Sep 2018
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Gayfeather, colic-root, rattlesnake-master, blazing star,( devil's bite, Cahaba torch, prairie-pine,) I took your list to that fireworks store in Upland, gathered & checked off each rocket, then imagined how you'd stare at a forest fire (guilty? gleeful?) as I put them all back.
Got done up in jade & lace to step out and have a crystal glassful of pomegranate seeds & kir royal in the company of firework-flustered birds. Thin mist thickening with smoke then attenuating again.
Further evidence for the utility of lipstick in shedding past visual association with Christ.
A pumpkin's dropped anchor in a turbulent bit of the big creek again. Twice makes it a tradition. It's just not winter 'til we've seen a gourd getting gently jostled by the current.
Dreamt of trying to install a music app, Orca, on the wooden cellphone of a friend newly returned from courting a distant princess. Ran into intractable issues because her phone wasn't "problossom"-compatible or "Linwood+". An elf's mundane frustration-dream delivered to me by mistake.
Tripped and slammed the jamb of a deer-fence gate hard with my shoulder, releasing months of absorbed animal resentment in one clang flung across the barren. Just bruised, though, myself.
Walked into a small sunshower of small hail. Bantam pellets that couldn't raise a welt but rattled & ticked in the dry deadleaf carpet for a few yards in all directions. I caught its last 8 minutes at sunset—no reason not to assume it'd been pitter-pattering that plot since dawn.
Racing the stiffening of my re-vaccinated arm to finish the laundry and dishes, so as to be practiced when called upon to Pyrrhicly strangle a basilisk.
It'd been years since I'd last visited the three ghosts under the farm bridge. The middle one's stepped forward past their cohorts, and someone's offered them a knife.
At 2:30, my dangling earbud clanged twice against my water bottle with the tone & cadence of a small ship's bell. The watch duties of all near-drifting spirits of off-course sailors were thereby extended by an hour and a half. I'm sorry.
illustrated expression of terror
I've cleaned between the bookcases.
The paths by the big creek are offering a markedly tempting poisoned menu this month. Every little bird out there recommends the possum grapes on the peppervine for deƨsert.
Scarp scree clatter. She, elle.
Within 30 miles of Philadelphia, because of a curse.
Joined Sep 2018
